


3:47PM

by sprucewoodcottage (ironmermaidens)



Series: Reaper AU [2]
Category: Hermitcraft
Genre: Angst With A Bittersweet Ending, Death, Gen, Ghosts, Hermitcraft season 6, explaining a mcyter's evil alter ego, reaper au, the five stages of grief but over your own death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-06
Updated: 2019-10-22
Packaged: 2020-10-11 10:11:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20544449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ironmermaidens/pseuds/sprucewoodcottage
Summary: MumboJumbo.Mumbo's Witch Farm.3:47PM.That's when Mumbo will die. Evil X will be there. He always is.





	1. Hold Your Breath, It'll Hurt Less

Evil X sits perched in the eye of Bumbo Balloni, a knot of anxiety tight in his belly as he waits for Mumbo to appear. The latest server patch notes sit like a phantom at the edge of his visor, and he does his best to avoid them for now.

_MumboJumbo_  
_Mumbo’s Witch Farm_  
_ 3:47PM_

Every time he catches sight of the information there it’s like a punch to the gut. He thinks about ignoring it entirely, although he already knows the consequences of that. It just isn’t fair. It never was. But Mumbo? He was the youngest hermit. He didn’t deserve this.

Evil X exhales slowly, checking the time. 2:52PM. Nearly an hour still, but every second that passes makes the knot tighten. Where was Mumbo? He thought for sure he might see the man here at his base soon. It wasn’t realistic of course. Rarely did he get to avoid going to the scene. Still, he held out hope.

He shifts slightly, pulling a leg up onto the ledge and immediately begins tapping his foot. 2:55PM. It feels like it’s been an eternity. He contemplates the possibility of distracting Mumbo, or of leading him away from the farm somehow, of changing his fate. He’s heard stories from other servers, of people like him who tried. It never ended well. He had never dared to try himself, not beyond vague warnings that were never heeded. Perhaps this time he might.

His heart drops into his stomach then as Mumbo appears, coming from the direction of the Architech station. His elytra nearly doesn’t activate and he skims the surface of the ocean, something that wouldn’t normally make Evil X feel nauseated, but now makes his chest flutter weakly. It wasn’t the right time or the right place yet, but emotions don’t tend to care for things like logic.

Evil X remains unseen as Mumbo glides up to his storage area, digging through chest after chest while mumbling to himself about the latest development in his witch farm project. He needs sand to continue blasting out the area with TNT. Evil X’s heart continues to sink. He can see it now. Mumbo caught in an explosion, buried under stone and sand, bones grinding, blood pooling, lungs filling with gravel. A terrible way to go, whether one can expect a respawn or not. Or perhaps he would slip near the cliff face, fall over the edge, splattering like a cracked egg on the bedrock below. Maybe his elytra would break over the lava pools and he’d burn up. There would be nothing left to take to the hermits if that happened. They would surely expect him to come back. How long would they wait for him?

_Forever,_ a part of him thinks. They would wait forever if they thought it’d bring him back. Evil X is not a praying man, but he finds himself begging fate for the small mercy of a body.

3:01PM. He slides the straps of his elytra over his shoulders and glides down to the storage level, landing with a thump behind Mumbo. Mumbo doesn’t look up from the shulker box he’s filling.

“Working on your farm?” Evil X says as conversationally as he can manage. His voice modulator makes it come out like a threat. Mumbo nearly jumps out of his skin, and he knocks the shulker box over, spilling sand all over the ground.

“Evil Xisuma!” He shouts, voice cracking in the middle. His eyes dart between Evil X and the sand, as if asking permission to clean up the mess. Evil X motions him to feel free. Mumbo hesitates for a moment before kneeling there, scooping sand back into the box.

“…As a matter of fact, I am.” Mumbo says after a moment. “Why do you want to know?”

3:03PM. Evil X curses under his breath. Time always seemed to slow down when a patch with a death came through. “Just curious. That’s not a crime, is it?”

He hates the act he’s putting on. That everything is fine. That he’s just the local nuisance, pestering hermits and trying to destroy the server like always. Sometimes he still wishes he could. Thinks that it might free his friends from their fates. It wouldn’t work, he knows this, but he still wakes up and wonders if it wasn’t worth a try.

“No, I suppose it’s not,” Mumbo says quietly. He brushes the last of the sand back into the shulker box and rights it before standing up. “Something tells me that’s not the only reason you’re here, though.”

_You’re here to do your job, _he thinks._ Just do your job. Nothing more._

“You should give up on that,” he says. “Horrible waste of time, really. It’ll never work. And Xisuma’s already got a witch farm. Why not just use that?”

Mumbo glowers at him and he hates himself a little bit. They were friends once upon a time. Inevitably whenever a new patch came out he found himself in this same position, flinging cruelty at his friends and hoping that this time it might be enough to make them reconsider going where the higher power has determined they are to die. If only he could just tell them the truth. If only they would believe him. If only it would make any difference in the end.

“No, that’s quite alright.” Mumbo says coldly. “Better to try and fail than to never try at all, I say.”

“What if the consequences of failing are more than you’re prepared for?” Evil X blurts out before he can stop himself. Mumbo gives him a strange look, and he finds himself wishing even more that he wasn’t there. If only he had died himself all those seasons ago instead of getting stuck bearing the burden of every hermit’s final passing.

“Like what, exactly?” Mumbo asks with a raised brow. “I doubt there’s anything I could lose that I wouldn’t be able to get back with a little time and effort.”

“You could lose your life,” Evil X says through gritted teeth. He squeezes his eyes shut, willing himself to keep his mouth closed, but the words keep coming. “Permanently. No respawns. Have you ever thought of that?”

“Yeah… I suppose I could…” Mumbo says uncertainly, and Evil X imagines the confused furrow of Mumbo’s brow. “It’s not very likely though, innit?”

Evil X opens his eyes again, and there is Mumbo still, standing before him with the sort of concerned look he usually reserved for his fellow hermits. For the other Xisuma. He must look a right mess if even he was being granted The Look. Out of the corner of his eye, the patch notes glare at him like an angry guardian.

_MumboJumbo_   
_ Mumbo’s Witch Farm  
3:47PM_

It was 3:11PM now. Mumbo is still staring at him expectantly. Evil X should say something. He needs to say something. Anything.

“Don’t go,” he chokes out.

Mumbo still looks concerned, but he shakes his head minutely. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you, Evil Xisuma, but I need to finish my farm. Maybe you should go talk to X. You seem kinda… troubled.”

Mumbo turns away, moving towards the edge of his base to glide over to his nether portal room. Evil X’s hand snaps out to grab Mumbo by the wrist before he can take off. Mumbo yelps and tries to pull away, but Evil X only tightens his hold.

“Evil Xisuma?!” Mumbo questions, his voice breaking again as he turns to give Evil X a fearful look. He doesn’t stop tugging on his arm, but his efforts are weaker now, like he’s afraid to make Evil X angry. Evil X isn’t angry, though. He’s scared. Mumbo is walking to his death and there’s nothing he can do about it. He tried and he failed, just like always. There was nothing left to do but the one thing he was supposed to. Slowly, Evil X lets his fingers uncurl from Mumbo’s wrist. He brushes his hand against Mumbo’s, and he feels rather than sees his friend’s soul being pulled from his body. Mumbo’s giving him another strange look as he backs away.

“Be careful,” Evil X says as if something like care mattered anymore. Mumbo says nothing. He doesn’t acknowledge Evil X’s words at all. Simply turns away and leaps off the side of his base, gliding towards the portal room as quickly as the wind will carry him. Evil X is alone on Mumbo’s base. No doubt the other hermits would leave it untouched out of respect. The landscape around him was doomed to remain unchanged for the rest of the season. For the rest of forever.

3:24PM. Evil X pulls his elytra straps back over his shoulders. He doesn’t have to go if he doesn’t want. The job is done. His involvement is over. He could simply leave Mumbo’s base and return to his cave.

Evil X glides down to the portal room.

Mumbo isn’t alone at his witch farm. Evil X nearly turns tail back through the portal when he sees Grian helping Mumbo fill in the remainder of the swamp next to the hole. He can barely make out their features from this distance. Grian is laughing, he thinks. Perhaps Mumbo is telling Grian about his encounter at his base. Grian probably made some kind of joke out of it. He thinks that would be in character of the server’s newest hermit, although he barely knows the man. Mumbo is laughing now too. Evil X feels like his chest might implode.

He sits down next to the portal and watches them. Mumbo seems to have recovered entirely from his confrontation. He seems happy.

He seems oblivious.

3:32PM. The rest of the swamp has been filled with sand and drained by sponges. Mumbo is priming his TNT machine for a test run while Grian checks over their work one last time. When he’s satisfied he gives Mumbo a thumbs up from across the sand field and shouts, “Pull the lever, Kronk!”

Evil X feels bile rising in his throat.

3:41PM. Mumbo sends the TNT machine. It works like a dream.

3:42PM. Mumbo shouts something at Grian. Evil X’s heart stops for a moment. The witch hut is in the way. It’s going to wreck the machine. Grian and Mumbo both shoot off towards it, disassembling it as quickly as possible. Grian panics within moments and flies off again. Mumbo doesn’t.

The TNT dropper is approaching. Mumbo doesn’t move. This is it, Evil X thinks.

But then the machine is upon him, and he takes off, narrowly dodging a load of TNT as he does.

3:45PM. Mumbo lands at the edge of the clearing, just outside of the TNT dropper’s range. He cheers as the machine passes over the witch hut’s studs without blowing itself to pieces. It makes its way to the end of its track and turns around.

3:46PM. The last bit of TNT explodes. Evil X doesn’t breathe. The blocks beneath Mumbo’s feet give way. The levee he’s created breaks. He’s being swept away by the torrent of water, down the cliffside and into the hole. Grian screams for him, shoots a dozen rockets all at once to try and propel himself to his friend and save him, but it’s too late. Mumbo’s body is dragged like a ragdoll against the stone, the strength of the water too much to fight. The water falls against the bedrock, forming a pool that Mumbo lands in with a splash.

3:47PM. Mumbo lay motionless in the water at the bottom of his witch farm. His body doesn’t disappear.


	2. Dead as a Doornail

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “No,” Mumbo says. “I can’t believe this… I can’t… I can’t be dead. I just can’t be…”
> 
> “Well, get used to it, because you are,” Evil X says. “And you aren’t coming back.”

Mumbo stands beside the witch farm nether portal, gasping desperately, trying to fill his lungs full of air instead of water. He finds no resistance at his lips. His fingers are numb, and so are his toes. He can’t feel his clothes against his body, When he reaches down to pat at his torso his hands feel nothing either. He looks down to see his suit, dry and clean. A scream from across the farm startles him and he looks up towards the source. 

On the opposite side of the hole he sees the levee he had been moments ago standing on, water from the swamp beyond it still trickling down the cliff’s edge. It occurs to him that he doesn’t know how he got over here. There’s another scream, more desperate than the last, and his gaze traces the stream down to the bedrock below where he spots Grian holding a limp body. A body that looks remarkably like his own, if he were much more waterlogged and much more unconscious.

“Welcome to life after death, I suppose,” a resigned voice from beside him says. He jumps with a start and turns to see Evil X seated there in the grass, knees drawn up to his chest. He doesn’t sound like Evil X, though. He just sounds like… regular Xisuma.

“Evil Xisuma…?” Mumbo questions, taking a step back from the other man. He jumps again when he feels a tingling sensation in his spine. His back is against the nether portal, he assumes, but when he turns to look he sees the obsidian intersecting his body.

He leaps forward out of the obsidian with a yelp. “Oh my word! What is going on?!”

“You died is what’s going on,” Evil X says bitterly. With a heavy breath like a sob, he removes his helmet. Mumbo can’t see his face from this angle, and the man quickly scrubs at his eyes, obscuring Mumbo’s view further. He’s crying, Mumbo realizes. “You should have listened to me when I warned you not to come here. But no one ever listens to the guy whose name starts with the word Evil!”

Evil X laughs brokenly and rests his head on his forearm. Mumbo takes a hesitant step forward and kneels beside him. He reaches a tentative hand out and is surprised when his fingers meet Evil X’s shoulder rather than pass through him. He doesn’t know why he’s surprised. It’s normal for his corporeal hand to touch other corporeal things. It’s not normal to walk through blocks.

Evil X’s shoulders shake ever so slightly as he breathes, each one ending on the threatening note of a sob. Mumbo lets his eyes drift away in his discomfort, back towards the pool at the bottom of his witch farm where Grian is still kneeling, holding the body that isn’t his.

Why does it look so much like him? His mind wanders back to moments earlier, when the TNT took out the levee. He thinks of the feeling of his feet being swept out from under him. The rush of water in his ears and in his lungs. Every stone ledge he was battered against on the way down. Gasping for air next to his nether portal, dry and numb and feeling nothing at all like when he typically respawned. Why wasn’t he in his bed? Why hadn’t his body despawned? He realizes he hasn’t been breathing. He thinks it’s awfully strange that he doesn’t feel the need to.

_What if the consequences of failing are more than you’re prepared for?_

“Am I…” he swallows thickly. “Am I… _dead?_”

“Yes, you spoon!” Evil X cries, lifting his head to glare at Mumbo. There are wet tear tracks on his cheeks, and the whites of his eyes are almost as red as his irises. “You’re dead! Don’t make me say it again!”

“No,” Mumbo whispers, and he feels himself sucking in air his lungs don’t need. It does nothing to quell the rising panic in his chest. “No, no, no, no, I can’t be, this can’t be real. It’s a dream, or–or a glitch or something, I’m not dead. I’m not dead. I’m _not_ dead.”

A weak laugh escapes from Mumbo. “I mean, if I were dead then—how am I still here? How are you seeing me? And–and talking to me! You shouldn’t be able to see me or talk to me, yet here you are! Care to explain that?!”

Evil X clenches his jaw and for a moment Mumbo thinks he might strike him. Instead, Evil X huffs and turns away.

“I’m here to escort your soul into the afterlife, Mumbo. That’s why I can see you. I’m…” Evil X sighs. “I guess you could say I’m a grim reaper.”

Mumbo laughs again, and he thinks it might sound even more crazed than the last had. “You must be joking.”

“You know, funnily enough, watching one of my friends die hasn’t really left me in a joking mood,” Evil X says, his fingers curling into the fabric of his pants.

Mumbo wants to scream at Evil X. He wants to scream for Grian. He just wants to scream. He tries to, but no sound comes out. He takes a breath and tries again. A sob comes out instead.

“No,” he says again. “I can’t believe this… I can’t… I can’t be. I just can’t be…”

“Well, get used to it, because you are,” Evil X says. “And you aren’t coming back.”

“Xisuma came back,” Mumbo shoots back defiantly. Evil X’s shoulders tense, and Mumbo realizes that might have been a low blow to the doppelgänger.

“Xisuma didn’t come back.” Evil X says coldly.

Before Mumbo can demand that he elaborate, he hears rockets shooting off. He looks over to the hole again and sees Grian taking off, the body—Mumbo’s body—held cradled in his arms. He flies in the direction of the the main island, completely passing over the nether portal as if he’d forgotten it’s there.

Evil X cranes his neck to watch him, then grabs his helmet from where he had discarded it. He stands and dons it.

“I have a feeling I know where he’s going,” Evil X says. “If you want to follow him.”

“Yes,” Mumbo says immediately. “Yes, I want to follow him.”

“Come with me, then,” Evil X says. He sounds like he’s done this before. He sounds like he wishes he didn’t have to anymore.

Evil X takes the nether portal, nodding Mumbo over before he disappears through the purple haze, and Mumbo hesitantly follows. He’s shocked when he manages to pass through it. Then he chides himself for his surprise. He hates how easily he seems to be accepting his own death.

“Would you hurry it up? We don’t have all day.” Evil X calls from down the path. Mumbo starts, and then slides along the ice until he’s slipping past Evil X, nearly toppling over his own feet when he reaches the corner. Evil X sighs.

“We don’t have time for tomfoolery anymore than we have time for faffing about,” Evil X says as he slides gracefully around the corner. Mumbo does his best to skate after him.

They slide all the way to the nether hub, Evil X sighing dramatically with every corner Mumbo trips around along the way. Evil X skids to a halt just before falling out of the tunnel and grabs Mumbo by the scruff of his jacket to keep him from sliding by. He’s got an elytra strapped over his shoulders now, and before Mumbo can say a thing, Evil X shoots off into the air. He yelps and grabs onto Evil X’s arm, watching the ground quickly fall away as they fly towards the blood moon above. He doesn’t even catch which tunnel they go down until they’re already at their destination.

He can hear muffled shouting through the crackle of the portal that quickly clears into, “Please! You have to tell me!”

Mumbo cranes his neck to see as Evil X glides down in the shadows of Xisuma’s base, landing some distance from where Grian and Xisuma are standing over Mumbo’s body.

Mumbo squirms out of Evil X’s hold the second his feet touch ground. “Grian!”

“Grian, you know I can’t do that…” Xisuma says, shuffling his feet. “There’s a reason we haven’t done it in such a long time.”

“Xisuma, please, you have to let me bring him back,” Grian begs.

“Grian, I’m right here!” Mumbo shouts. He runs over to where the two men stand, flinching when he catches a brief glance at his own pale, bloody face on the ground between them.

“For the last time, no!” Xisuma says, a hint of defeat in his voice. “We already know the consequences of bringing someone back! I know you weren’t there when it happened, but that doesn’t mean you haven’t seen them for yourself.”

“Grian, please, I’m right here. Grian.” Mumbo says desperately. He steps over his own corpse and tries to grab Grian by the shoulder. His hand passes right through him. Mumbo lets out a sob. “Grian!”

“They can’t hear you,” Evil X calls from the shadows, voice modulator making him sound like himself again rather than regular Xisuma. Grian and Xisuma instantly snap to attention then, turning to where Evil X watches them.

“_You!_” Grian shouts. He trips over Mumbo’s body as he starts towards Xisuma’s doppelgänger, picking himself up off the ground with a whimper. “You did this, didn’t you!”

Evil X doesn’t move. He stands there impassively as Grian grabs him by the front of his armor. “This is your fault! Mumbo told me what you said to him at his base! You killed him, didn’t you?!”

“Grian, stop!” Mumbo says, chasing after his friend and making another failed attempt at grabbing him. He gives a cry for every swipe that passes through Grian’s body.

“You do have a funny way of showing up when these sorts of things happen…” Xisuma says from beside Mumbo’s body.

Evil X narrows his eyes. “I didn’t kill Mumbo. I tried to warn him not to go, but he didn’t listen.”

“We should go,” Mumbo says. This isn’t how he thought things would happen. He doesn’t want to see Grian like this anymore. He doesn’t want to see his body. He doesn’t want to see Xisuma. He wants to leave. He doesn’t know where they’ll go, but anywhere sounded better than here. “We should leave.”

Grian lets out an animalistic growl. “Then how did you know this was going to happen?!”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Evil X goads. Grian takes the bait and throws a swing at Evil X’s head. His knuckles crack audibly against the side of Evil X’s helmet, but he achieves the desired goal; Evil X is knocked off balance and lands on his back on the ground.

“Grian, stop!” Mumbo cries again, as Xisuma rushes over to pull Grian away from Evil X. Grian is screaming obscenities as he tries to escape Xisuma’s hold. “X, let’s leave. _Please._”

Evil X turns to Mumbo with a surprised look in his eyes, and it takes Mumbo a moment realize that it’s because he’d forgotten the _Evil_ prefix of his name. There’s an unplaceable emotion to his expression.

“Let’s leave,” he repeats, and Evil X nods almost imperceptibly. He climbs to his feet, brushing himself off calmly.

“Xisuma,” Evil X says. “Remember our deal.”

“I haven’t forgotten,” Xisuma says, his arms still wrapped around Grian, although Grian had stopped fighting him.

Evil X examines them for a moment before turning back towards the portal. “Good.”

He glances in Mumbo’s direction, and Mumbo takes that as his cue. He steps closer, grabbing hold of Evil X’s arm again. A second later they’re airborne, flying through the portal and back into the nether hub. Mumbo doesn’t know where Evil X is taking them. He doesn’t much care. He can see himself when he closes his eyes, laying stiff as a board on the ground, clothes sticking wetly to his pale skin, blood congealing in his hair and mustache. Blood on Grian’s hands. He wonders how much blood that red sweater of his was concealing too.

He was dead. He was dead and he wasn’t coming back.


	3. The Questions No One Thought to Ask

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Do you remember when I first came to this server?" Evil X asks.
> 
> "Yeah, 'course. It was shortly after Xisuma died," Mumbo says. "And after we brought him back. We thought that there must have been some kind of connection between you and the process, so we didn't do it again."
> 
> "Well, you weren't entirely wrong," Evil X says.

The sun sits on the horizon when Evil X finally lands. They’re at the entrance of a cave, and Mumbo thinks he sees light deeper in the tunnel. This must be where Evil X lives. He turns around to look out at the ocean, and if he squints he thinks he can see just make out the lights from the shopping district glittering in front of the sinking sun. Evil X sits down on the stone. 

“Well. Have at it then.” He says, his voice sounding once more like regular Xisuma’s. He removes his helmet and sets it beside himself.

Mumbo blinks. “Have at what?”

“Questions. Surely you have them. Everyone does.”

Mumbo grimaces at the implication that Evil X has done this before, but he lowers himself to sit beside him. “Suppose I do…”

He thinks for a moment about what to even ask. At this point he’s established that he’s dead—even if he still gets anxious when he thinks about it for too long—and that Evil X is some kind of reaper here to insure his safe passage to the afterlife. He could be a spoon sometimes, but even he was smart enough to put together that Evil X had probably been doing it for every deceased hermit since he’d first appeared.

“How did you, er, come into this… _line of work?_” He finally settles on, and cringes at how awkwardly the question forms on his tongue. Was it callous to talk about it like it was some kind of career path one chose?

Evil X sighs. “Do you remember when I first came to the server?”

“Yeah, ‘course. It was shortly after Xisuma d–died...” Mumbo says, voice trailing off for a moment. “…And after we brought him back. We thought that… there must have been some kind of connection between you and the… the process. So we didn’t do it again.”

“Well, you weren’t entirely wrong,” Evil X says. “When I– when… _Xisuma_ died… that was actually… me. The Xisuma you brought back is… someone else.”

Evil X clenches his fists. “If I hadn’t already been appointed reaper… That would be me. But my soul was already given a new purpose, and the resurrection process can only interfere with fate so much.”

“Is that… why you hate Xisuma?” Mumbo ventures.

“Hate Xisuma?” Evil X snorts. “I don’t hate Xisuma. I don’t hate any of you.”

Mumbo gives Evil X an unimpressed look that he waves away.

“Sure, I hated you once upon a time, but that was when I first got stuck with this job. I was…” Evil X pauses as he searches for the right word. “I was angry. At the world. At you and the other hermits. At myself.

“I took it out on you lot. I thought it was awfully unfair that I should be stuck an outsider in my own home while you welcomed some sort of changeling with open arms. You called me Evil Xisuma, but I thought if anyone was evil it must have been _him._”

Evil X stops again as his voice rises in renewed anger. He sighs. When he speaks, his voice is low again. His voice is melancholy. “I finally confronted him one day, after I’d made his life a living hell for awhile, heh. And you know what he did?”

“What?” Mumbo asks obligingly.

“He forgave me. But more importantly, he believed me.” Evil X says. “I should have known he would, being that we were the same person and all. But nobody else had…”

Mumbo feels his guts tie in knots. “I’m sorry, X.”

Evil X turns to give him that strange look again. “Why do you keep calling me that? You did it back at Xisuma’s base, too.”

“Well I… I didn’t really think about it,” Mumbo stutters. “But it doesn’t feel very nice to keep calling you Evil Xisuma now.”

“It doesn’t feel nice to call me by my name?” Evil X chortles and it sounds just like when Xisuma does that for the first time it really sinks in that this was Xisuma he was talking to. Not some evil doppelgänger. Just Xisuma. An Xisuma shaped by different experiences than the one he knew, but still him. Mumbo can’t help but let his infectious laugh affect him, and he finds himself smiling.

“But you aren’t evil! You’re just Xisuma.” Mumbo says.

“Well, no I guess I’m not. But it’s just a name. It might have bothered me a long time ago, but now…” Evil X sighs wistfully. “It would feel weird to be called anything else.”

The two sit in companionable silence after that, watching the sun sink further below the horizon, golden orange light slowly being swallowed by the blue and violet of night. The air begins to chill and Mumbo shivers. He’s not sure if he’s actually feeling the breeze against his skin or if his mind is supplying a memory of it.

“What happens now?” He asks finally.

“Now you move on,” Evil X says. His voice has a tone of resignation to it. “When you’re ready.”

Mumbo supposes that Evil X only got to be himself when he was talking to the recently deceased. Any other time and the hermits distrusted him. They thought he was out to get them. They shunned him. Mumbo felt an immense guilt settle back in his gut.

“How do you know when you’re ready?” Mumbo asks.

“You’ll know.”

Cryptic. Nice. Mumbo wasn’t sure if Evil X was being cagey because he didn’t want to let Mumbo go or because it really was that obvious. In Mumbo’s experience, things were never quite obvious enough.

“…And what happens to you?” he asks.

“I stay here,” Evil X replies. “Until one day someone else is chosen to take my place, and it’s my turn to move on.”

“It seems awfully cruel,” Mumbo remarks.

“Fate has never been known for its kindness.”

“No… it hasn’t,” Mumbo agrees.

The sun has set and now the only illumination comes from the stars.

“…When we were at Xisuma’s base,” Mumbo says. “You said something about a deal. What were you talking about?”

Evil X is silent for a moment. “He agreed that he wouldn’t ever tell anyone how to perform a resurrection.”

“Oh,” Mumbo says. Cleo had been the one to perform the resurrection on Xisuma all those seasons ago. She was the only one of the server other than Xisuma himself that knew how to do it. The hermits had all agreed after Evil X appeared that they wouldn’t try it again. He supposed that the longer time went on, though, the less wary they had all become of him. It was only a matter of time before someone experienced a loss so painful they didn’t care about the consequences. Mumbo thinks of Grian, thinks of the desperation in his voice as he begged for Xisuma’s help.

“What would happen if… if Xisuma broke his promise?” Mumbo asks hesitantly. “If he told Grian how to bring me back?”

Despite the cover of night, Mumbo can tell Evil X is giving him a sideways glance. He hopes that whatever emotion the darkness conceals is amusement, not anger. “It depends on a few things. If he did it right now then your soul and body would be reunited in life. You’d wake up wherever he has you at like you never died.”

“Would I remember anything that happened to me since… since I… fell…?” He asks, but the question he really wants to ask is, would he remember the truth about Evil X?

“…I don’t know,” Evil X says. He sounds like he’s genuinely uncertain. Before Mumbo can dwell on it for too long, Evil X continues his explanation. “If you’d already moved on to the afterlife then your body would awaken and continue to live as if it were you.”

“And that’s… what Xisuma is?” The idea makes him imagine armor stands imbued with life. He shudders at the thought. “What’ll happen to him when he dies?”

“…He’ll die. That’s all.” Evil X says.

“Like everyone else?” Mumbo asks.

“No. Not like everyone else. Everyone else… Everyone who has a soul… They’ll get an appointment with death. A time and a place. It’s my job to remove their souls before then. When Xisuma dies…. there won’t be an appointment. There’s no soul to remove. I won’t know about it until the same time everyone else does.”

Mumbo’s heart sinks. “So he… he doesn’t get to go to the afterlife?”

“No… he doesn’t.” Evil X says. He sounds sorrowful. “He’s already made his peace with it.”

Mumbo bites his lip. “Have you?”

Evil X is silent, and it’s too dark for Mumbo to tell where his gaze lies. The silence stretches on between them, uncomfortably long. Mumbo isn’t sure whether Evil X is still contemplating his answer or ignoring the question altogether. He opens his mouth to ask, but Evil X interrupts him. “It’s late. We should get inside.”

Evil X stands then, stretches his back before bending down to pick up his helmet. Mumbo frowns and considers repeating his question. He thinks better of it.

“Alright. Sure.” He says instead, rising to his feet beside Evil X. “What’s inside?”

“A bed, for one thing,” Evil X responds.

“A bed? Do ghosts even need to sleep?” Mumbo says with a chuckle.

“No,” Evil X glances at him, and even in the dark Mumbo can tell he’s raising a brow at him. “but reapers do.”

Mumbo lets out a sheepish sound. “Don’t let me keep you up!”

“I wasn’t planning on it,” Evil X says, and Mumbo is relieved to hear amusement in his voice. “If I let myself lose sleep over every soul I’ve reaped there’d be no point in having a bed at all.”

Evil X turns and heads into the cave without another word. Mumbo blinks and follows. He feels apprehension growing in his belly with every step, his thoughts lingering on his conversation with Evil X.

He would know when he was ready to move on, Evil X had said.

The only question was, how long would that take?


	4. Flowers For A Grave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "...So... what's on the agenda for today? Attending my own funeral?"
> 
> "And skip the embalming? That's the best part."

The worst part about being dead, in Mumbo's limited experience, is how boring it is. He can walk through walls now, which is only amusing for about five minutes. He can't interact with most objects anymore. He thinks for a moment that he's made a glass in Evil X's makeshift kitchen rattle a bit, but dismisses it as his imagination when he fails to replicate the motion. 

He doesn't know the scope of how he can interact with people. People, normal people, couldn't hear him, see him, or feel him. Evil X could see him and hear him, and he could interact with him, but Mumbo didn't know if he could interact back. He tests it by prodding Evil X's side, and is startled when Evil X snorts awake. Evil X blinks the sleep out of his eyes and once he has he turns an unamused glare on Mumbo.

"Just testing something," Mumbo says with a sheepish smile.

"If you keep _ testing _ things all night I'll personally see to it that your afterlife is Hell," Evil X responds, but the venom he might have expected to hear in his voice just one night earlier wasn't there. 

"Sorry. Being dead is boring." Mumbo says. 

"Tell me about it," Evil X says. Then he rolls over. Mumbo opens his mouth for a moment before closing it again. He probably shouldn't push his luck, lest Evil X make good on his threat. Mumbo wonders if that's something he even had the power to do. 

The night passes excruciatingly slow with no real ways to entertain himself. He paces. He sits and thinks. He paces some more. He contemplates waking Evil X up, demanding that he help Mumbo move on quicker. He paces again. 

When the morning light finally reaches deep into the chamber and Evil X stirs, Mumbo lets out a dramatic sigh of relief. 

"Finally," he says. "I was starting to go mad waiting for you to get up."

Evil X grumbles something incomprehensible at him through a yawn. Xisuma was a morning person, but it seemed that was just another thing that being a reaper had taken from Evil X. Mumbo feels a pang in his heart at the thought. 

"How did you sleep?" Mumbo asks, and tries to shake the feeling off himself.

"Fine," Evil X responds. "Once I stopped being poked by ghosts."

Mumbo's cheeks feel warm at the jab. "I only poked you once!"

"It was more than enough times to wake me up," Evil X says, although his lips curl into a smile as he does. He finally turns to Mumbo then and his face falls into a curious tilt. Mumbo blinks.

"What is it?" He asks. "Have I got something on my face? ...Somehow?"

Evil X shakes his head and stands up. "Nothing. Nevermind."

Before Mumbo can insist on an explanation Evil X brushes past him for the kitchen. Mumbo follows, standing some distance away in the entrance.

"...So... what's on the agenda for today? Attending my own funeral?"

Evil X snorts. "And skip the embalming? That's the best part."

Mumbo makes a face. "Has anyone ever told you that death has given you a very morbid sense of humor?"

"You have no idea."

"Really, though. What do we do until I figure out how to move on?"

Evil X is silent for a moment, back to Mumbo and hands resting against the meager counter space available. Then he sighs. "I go about things business as usual. You tag along until you have an epiphany and then you... go into the light."

Mumbo furrows his brow. "That's it then? We just... wait it out?"

Evil X turns his head just enough to glance at Mumbo over his shoulder, and he has that strange look in his eye again. "We wait it out."

Mumbo pulls at his collar, even though he knows the choked feeling in his throat isn't real. "Alright... fair enough, I suppose."

Evil X watches him for a moment longer before turning back to his food preparation. It's a modest breakfast, bread and butter, nothing else. Another reminder of the dignity Evil X lost when he became Evil X. 

"I have some golden carrots at my base," Mumbo blurts out. Evil X turns to him again with a curious brow raised. "They're... they're more filling. Than the bread. If you... y'know. Wanted them. S'not like I'll be needing them anymore, right?"

Evil X takes a bite out of his bread. "Really?"

"Yes, really," Mumbo says, squirming under Evil X's persistent gaze. "I just... You must get sick of bread."

"I have other food," Evil X says with amusement. 

"Oh." Mumbo fidgets with the buttons on his jacket. "Oh, heh. Right. Of course. Silly of me to assume..."

"It's fine," Evil X says. "I'll take your carrots. They'll be a nice change of pace."

Evil X shoves the last of his bread into his mouth and steps around Mumbo, heading to the chest he had stowed his elytra in the night before. "C'mon then. It's a long flight to your base."

__

Evil X circles Mumbo's base once when they arrive. Then a second time. On the third, Mumbo finally realizes why. Standing on the storage level of his base, right beside the messy pile of sand Mumbo had left behind in his haste to fill his shulker box, is Iskall. Mumbo thinks about the way Grian reacted to Evil X's presence the night previous and grimaces. If Grian was that ready to throw punches he can only imagine what a professional hitman would do. Could reapers die? Did they respawn the way a normal player did? Mumbo isn't sure he wants to find out the answers to those questions.

"We can come back later if you want!" He calls to Evil X through the wind buffeting his face. Evil X glides in another circle around the base silently. Mumbo can't properly read his expression through the red tint of his helmet visor. Evil X gives Mumbo no indication of what it is he's feeling as he slowly descends towards the storage level floor, releasing Mumbo when his feet touch down before landing himself. They're standing some distance from Iskall, who kicks at the small piles of sand on the ground. 

"...Why are you here?" Iskall asks. He continues kicking at the sand piles.

"I could ask you the same thing," Evil X replies, and Mumbo cringes.

"Evil X, please, you shouldn't test him..." Mumbo says quietly. There isn't anything he can do help Evil X if he really riles Iskall up.

Iskall finally looks up, turning a glare on Evil X. When he speaks his accent is thick with anger. "I'm here to pay my respects. Now answer the question."

Evil X tilts his head. "Same as you."

"Really," Iskall says flatly. "You know, Grian told me what you said to Mumbo yesterday."

"I'm sure he did."

"Evil X..." Mumbo mutters, shuffling his feet awkwardly in a desire to _ do _ something, anything to get them out of this situation. Evil X ignores him.

"Did you kill Mumbo." Iskall says. It's not a question. It hurts to hear him so straightforward, no running around the topic with jokes upon jokes upon laughs now, just cold fury in his expression as he looks for some scapegoat to take his anger out on. Mumbo places his hand on Evil X's shoulder, silently begging him not to goad Iskall the way he had goaded Grian. 

Evil X clenches his fists. "No. I didn't kill Mumbo."

"I don't believe you," Iskall says. He looks Evil X over for a moment before nodding to him. "Take that ridiculous helmet off. Look me in the eye and tell me you didn't kill him."

Evil X stares Iskall down with a barely reserved fury of his own. How often had it come to this, someone falsely accusing him of being responsible for a death on the server? How exhausting was it to constantly deflect those accusations, to be unable to prove your own innocence and to live with the weight of those beliefs hanging around your neck? Mumbo bites his lip against the urge to scream at Iskall. He knows he won't be heard. He so desperately wants to tell him this wasn't Evil X's fault, it wasn't anyone's fault. There's little satisfaction to be had from that, though. 

Evil X lets out a breath.

He raises his hands to his helmet, releases the hermetic seal around his neck and slips it off his head, letting his arms drop back to his sides, helmet held in his left hand. Then he drops that too. It clatters loudly against the glass and quartz of the walkway, louder still thanks to the stillness held in the standoff between the Iskall and Evil X. 

Evil X takes a step closer to Iskall, then another, and another until there's barely a meter between them. Mumbo follows behind him awkwardly, holding onto Evil X's sleeve desperately as if he might be able to pull him away from danger if it comes down to that. Evil X ignores him. He meets Iskall's eye instead.

"I didn't," he says through gritted teeth. "kill Mumbo."

Iskall glowers at Evil X, and Evil glowers back. Mumbo can only grimace. He tugs at Evil X's sleeve again, and to his surprise the movement breaks Evil X's concentration, pulling his gaze away to glance over his shoulder at Mumbo questioningly. 

"_ Stop_," Mumbo begs. "Please."

Evil X turns back to Iskall, his expression falling into wariness now. "Well? What are you waiting for? Hit me me if you're going to."

Iskall lets out a breath and looks down, shaking his head. "I'm not going to hit you."

"Why not?"

"Because you're telling the truth," Iskall says. "You didn't kill Mumbo."

Evil X furrows his brow. "What makes you so sure of that?"

Iskall snorts. "I'm a professional hitman, Evil X, I know a thing or two about interrogation. You aren't lying."

"I appreciate the vote of confidence," Evil X says, ducking his own head now. "You'd be the first to think so."

Iskall frowns now. "Maybe if you didn't act so weird and suspicious all the time more people would believe you."

Evil X glares. "I don't act _ weird and suspicious, _everyone assumes I'm weird and suspicious because I'm different! You never even gave me a chance!"

Iskall opens his mouth to argue, but Evil X cuts him off before he can get a word in edgewise. "I'm—I'm a hermit too. And I'm Mumbo's friend. I have as much a right to be here, as much a right to mourn him, as you do."

Iskall clenches his fists and for just a moment Mumbo is afraid he's changed his mind, afraid he's decided to strike Evil X after all. But he doesn't. He relaxes his hands again and sighs. "You were Mumbo's friend?"

"I _ am _ Mumbo's friend." Mumbo's heart hurts to hear Evil X say that, to know it had only been true for less than twenty-four hours, that it should have been true so much longer than that. Mumbo puts his hand on Evil X's shoulder apologetically. He hopes Evil X understands.

Iskall studies Evil X for a moment. Mumbo isn't sure what it is he's looking for. Then, he raises his arm. He places his hand on Evil X' shoulder too, and Evil X stiffens at the contact, and Mumbo can't help but do the same. Iskall's hand lands right over top of Mumbo's own. Mumbo lets out a muffled cry. He can feel a faint tingling in his fingers and palm. He wonders if Iskall can feel it too.

"Well, Evil X," Iskall says. "Any friend of Mumbo's is a friend of mine."

"Heh..." Evil X chokes out, a small smile curling his lips as he wipes at his eyes. "Thanks."

Iskall squeezes Evil X's shoulder in comfort, and Mumbo does too. Hesitantly, Evil X reaches a hand up, covering both their fingers with his own.

"Thank you..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! One more chapter to go. ;)


	5. Begin Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At long last, the afterlife.

It's late afternoon by the time Iskall leaves Mumbo's base, and leaves Evil X and Mumbo alone there. Evil X sits with his back against some of Mumbo's storage chests, while Mumbo sits cross-legged in the middle of his quartz walkway.

"You and Iskall seemed to really hit it off," Mumbo comments. The two had spent some time swapping stories about Mumbo; Iskall more recent ones and Evil X stories from the early seasons, before he was Evil X. Iskall laughed again, the full-bellied laugh Mumbo loved, and Evil X laughed too, the breathy chortle that was unmistakably Xisuma's. It warmed him to hear his friends laughing like that, laughing together, even if he felt some nagging pressure when he tried to join in. This wasn't for him. It wasn't as if he'd be heard anyway. "Looks like you might have some friends when I'm gone after all."

"Yeah... suppose I might..." Evil X says, although something in his tone sounds unsure. Almost guilty, even. It confuses Mumbo that he'd sound that way. What exactly about making friends would make him feel guilty?

"You don't think so?" Mumbo asks. Evil X glances away, stares into some middle distance beyond the rows of chests. He blinks and swallows, biting at his lip like he's trying to keep himself from crying, and Mumbo blinks too. He turns to look where Evil X is looking, and he sees light. Not light from the sun or a torch or glowstone. A golden light that dances above the little desert biome he'd made, the flickering walls of an unfamiliar build encased there. He recognizes what it must be. The afterlife Evil X claimed he would go to. 

Something feels off about it. Mumbo feels no pull towards it, no familiarity with it. Shouldn't he feel a draw towards his afterlife? Why did he feel like he still hadn't learned whatever lesson, had whatever epiphany it was he was meant to?

"Mumbo I..." Evil X starts, trailing off as if he'd lost the words, or simply never had them.

Mumbo turns back to Evil X, who looks more choked up than before, more guilty. His gaze is on his lap now, on his own fidgeting hands. Mumbo furrows his brow. "Evil X, is that... Is that the... the afterlife?"

Evil X nods minutely, eyes still cast down. 

"That can't possibly be it. It feels... off. Am I missing something?"

"It's not for you, Mumbo," Evil X says quietly. 

"What do you mean,  _ 'not for me?' _ " Mumbo says. His stomach does an odd flip-flop. "Who... who would it be for?"

Evil X finally looks up, looks into Mumbo's eyes. "C'mon now, Mumbo. You aren't  _ that _ stupid."

Mumbo swallows thickly. His mind is racing through a million questions, and he's not sure which one to ask first. "It's... you mean... if—if you... then... what about me?"

Evil X gives him a sympathetic smile at that. "Looks like I'll finally be passing the torch."

Evil X's face falls back into a frown and he averts his eyes once more. 

"I should have warned you," he sighs. "I suspected it this morning. When I woke up. Your eyes. They're... they're red now. Like mine."

Mumbo glances down at the glass part of his walkway, trying to make out his own reflection in it, to confirm Evil X's claim. 

"I didn't know how long it would be before I... before I had my epiphany," Evil X continues. "I thought I still had time, but then we ran into Iskall, and well..."

"You made friends with him."

"First friend I've made since I became me," Evil X says.

"What about... y'know... you and Wormman?" Mumbo ventures. It still hurts, hearing how lonely Evil X has been, but now there's another emotion there twisting up his guts. An anxious anticipation. 

Evil X gives another rueful little smile. "Wormman may have liked me, but Zed... He hung up our friendship when he hung up his cape."

Mumbo looks away again. "...Wormman didn't wear a cape."

Evil X snorts. "You know what I meant, Mumbo."

The silence that follows is awkward and uncomfortable. Evil X makes no move to get up from his spot by the storage chests. Mumbo squirms. "Shouldn't you... go...? Before your door closes?"

Evil X nods. "Yeah, I... I should go."

He stands, and Mumbo scrambles to his feet too. He's not sure what to say. What do you say to someone you'll likely never see again? How do you say farewell to the dead? He fidgets, opens his mouth to speak, then closes it again. Evil X seems to struggle much the same. Mumbo supposes it's a strange new experience for him, being on the other side of the interaction. 

The next thing Mumbo knows, Evil X is grabbing him by the shoulders, pulling him into a hug. Mumbo blinks before his brain catches up to him. He feels Evil X's hands tighten on his suit jacket and he finally wraps his own arms around Evil X, returning the hug. He feels tears welling in his eyes and tries to blink them away.

"Don't let them treat you the way they treated me, Mumbo," Evil X says. 

"I won't," Mumbo chokes out. "Should be easy for me, right? There's no competition."

Evil X laughs, and it sounds just as watery as Mumbo's eyes feel. "Yeah. You've definitely got the advantage over me."

"Enjoy your afterlife, Evil X," Mumbo says. "You've earned it."

"Thanks," Evil X says, and finally he pulls away from the hug, wiping at his eyes and smiling. "Thanks. I will. I'll enjoy it."

Evil X hesitates only a moment longer before turning back to the shimmering light, taking a deep breath and stepping towards it. It envelopes him in its warmth, bathes him in the same golden hue that washes over the build just beyond its edge. He stops just past the threshold, turns back to Mumbo.

He smiles again, small and melancholy, and waves. Mumbo waves back. The shimmering light begins to fade, taking Evil X with it, until there is nothing left but the desert biome Mumbo built all those months ago.

The silence Evil X leaves behind feels unlike ever before. He's never felt so alone in his life. Mumbo turns to the walls of chests beside him, reaches a hand out and feels his heart flutter when his fingers make contact with it, when he feels the wood grain against his skin. He wasn't a ghost anymore. He certainly wasn't alive, either. 

Mumbo turns away from the chests, towards the tower on the other side of the Architechs station. He wonders if Grian is there. Wouldn't that be a surprise for him? Mumbo could almost laugh, if the idea wasn't so morbid. He manages a weak chuckle, but it drops off quickly. He would have to rip that bandage off sooner or later. 

He picks up the discarded elytra and stack of rockets Evil X abandoned and takes off. Grian's base is close enough it only takes him one rocket to get there. It's dark inside when he stumbles to a stop in the main level concourse.

"Grian?" He calls. His voice echoes up the empty tower. "Grian, don't freak out, but it's Mumbo."

He looks around, searching for any sign of habitation, but he's interrupted by a sound that makes his blood run cold—assuming his blood runs at all anymore.

"Um," a voice says behind him. "Sorry, who did you say you were?"

Mumbo turns around slowly, and comes face to face with himself. He's sporting an alarmed look, his hands held nervously in front of his chest. Mumbo can feel himself mimicking the pose and the grimace forming on his face already. His mind races, trying to parse what his eyes are seeing. A rocket sounds from the entrance above, and if Mumbo's heart could stop any further, it would.

"Alright, I’ve just messaged everyone, they should be on their way over soon—" Grian cuts himself off as his own eyes catch up with him, and he lands beside the other Mumbo, standing in front of him protectively, his harsh gaze boring a hole into Mumbo's head. "...Who're you, and what are you doing in my base."

Grian slides a diamond sword from his inventory and Mumbo lets out a nervous chuckle. Of course. He should have known. Xisuma may have promised Evil X not to tell anyone how to bring someone back, but he wasn't the only one on the server that knew how. And Cleo? She'd made no such promise. 

"Start talking," Grian demands, taking a step forward and brandishing his sword threateningly.

"Wait!" Mumbo shouts, holding his hands up placatingly. "I! I'm...!"

He has no idea what to do. How does he explain himself to Grian and this second Mumbo? He hadn't prepared for this scenario, he doesn't know what to do. What does he say? What does he  _ say?  _

Grian shifts the sword in his hand impatiently and Mumbo blurts the first thing that comes to mind.

"I'm Evil Mumbo!" 

Grian stops, and the color drains from his face. Mumbo's gaze shifts between Grian's and his own, his doppelgänger looking nearly as stricken as Grian himself.

"...I'm Evil Mumbo."

He should have known things wouldn't be that simple.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for reading! There may be more adventures in the future for the newly dubbed Evil Mumbo, or as I like to call him, Bo. :) If you feel so inclined, you can join me on tumblr @sprucewoodcottage where I may share more tidbits about the reaper au (including some alternate events!).


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